I'll Walk Alone Read Online Free PDF Page A

model apartments.”
    Zan tried to smile as she took his hand. In the almost two years since Matthew disappeared, she had usually managed to compartmentalize herself, to force Matthew from her mind when she was in a business situation. But today the combination of Matthew’s birthday and the shock of knowing that someone was piling up bills on her credit card and charge accounts was suddenly breaking down the wall of reserve she had built so carefully.
    She knew her hand was ice cold and was glad that Kevin Wilson didn’t seem to notice it, but she could not trust herself to speak. First she had to let the lump that was crowding her throat begin to dissolve, otherwise she knew that silent tears would begin to run down her face. She could only hope that Wilson would mistake her silence for shyness.
    Apparently he did. “Why don’t we take a look and see what you’ve come up with?” he suggested, gently.
    Zan swallowed hard, then managed to speak in an even tone. “If you don’t mind, let’s go up to the apartments and I can explain to you how I’ve chosen to put things together.”
    “Sure,” he said. In a long stride, Wilson was around the desk and had taken the heavy leather folder from her. They walked down the corridor to the second bank of elevators. The lobby was in the final stages of construction, with overhead wires dangling and narrow strips of carpet scattered on the dusty floors.
    Wilson kept up a running conversation, surely, Zan felt, to help her get over what he must have thought was her nervousness. “This is going to be one of the most energy-efficient buildings in New York,” he said. “We’ve got solar energy and we’ve maximized the window sizes throughout to give all the apartments the constant feeling of sun and light. I grew up in an apartment house where my bedroom faced the brick wall of the building next door. Day and night it was so dark I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. In fact I put a sign on the door when I was ten years old, ‘The Cave.’ My mother made me take it down before my father came home. She said it would make him feel bad that we didn’t have a better place to live.”
    And I grew up living all over the world, Zan thought. So many people think that’s wonderful. Mother and Dad loved the diplomatic life, but I wanted permanence. I wanted neighbors who would still be there in twenty years. I wanted to live in a house that was ours. I didn’t want to have to go to boarding school when I was thirteen. I wanted to be with them, and even sometimes resented them for being on the move so much.
    They were stepping into the elevator. Wilson pushed a button on the panel and the elevator door closed. Zan searched for something to say. “I guess you may have heard that since your secretary phoned and invited me to submit design plans for the model apartments, I’ve been in and out of here any number of times.”
    “I heard that.”
    “I wanted to see the rooms at different times of day, so that I could get a feel for them, and of how it would be for different kinds of people to walk in and say, ‘I’m home.’ “
    They started in the one-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath apartment. “My guess is that the people looking at this one fall into two categories,” Zan began. “The apartments are expensive enough so that you’re not getting any kids just out of college, unless Daddy is paying the bills. I think you’ll probably have a lot of young professionals looking at this model. And unless it’s a romance situation, most of them won’t want roommates.”
    Wilson smiled. “And the other category?”
    “Older people who want a pied-à-terre, and even if they could afford it don’t want a guest room because they don’t want overnight guests.”
    It was getting easier for her. She was on safe territory. “This is what I’ve come up with.” There was a long counter separating the kitchen from the dining area. “Why don’t I lay out my sketches and